


tonight you are a million pieces

by estelares



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Other, Post-Pacifist Ending, aged up frisk/reader (you can choose), sans/reader in that sans loved them in many other timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5169332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelares/pseuds/estelares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>sans</b> /sanz/<br/>1. (adjective) short for sans serif.<br/>2. (presupposition) without, lacking.</p><p>When you have lived the same part of one life a million times over, living for yourself becomes a bit pointless. So, you begin to live for others. Sans was never built for battle, but he’s had to learn the hard way that you must fight to keep what is yours. This is something you are only just beginning to understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tonight you are a million pieces

**Author's Note:**

> _your existence makes me breathe again_  
>  _tonight, you are a million pieces_  
>  _will that road be closer today?_  
> [규현 / 밀리언조각](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ud6QYHSz9E)  
>     
> just to clarify, this is aged up frisk/reader because i never really thought frisk was a child since they went on so many dates and killed a lot of ppl (depending on route) and like....yeah but I guess I just missed the boat
> 
> this is a story where you only did the true pacifist ending and have no idea about the genocide route/neutral endings.  
> took some liberties with sans' magic to show his ageless anguish that breaks my heart into pieces - and i guess this is how i see sans finally telling the human about the timelines.

You introduce the game console to Papyrus one afternoon out of frustration, mostly because you thought it may get him out of your hair when you clean the kitchen and make dinner.

Papyrus, being Papyrus, loves to help with chores and still thinks there is no real acceptable foodstuff besides spaghetti. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t gotten hang of the fact that in the human world, if you drop a plate, they  _will_ break. He always looks absolutely devastated afterwards, though, so you can neverstay annoyed at him. 

Sans, being Sans, doesn’t do the least bit to help with any of this. 

Luckily, as soon as you mention ‘cooking’ and ‘challenge’ in the same sentence, Papyrus was already on his feet and bouncing in excitement. 

Brandishing a handful of dried spaghetti at you. 

You gently take the spaghetti away from him and exchange it for your Nintendo DS that you dug up from the basement in your house a few days ago. 

‘I CAN COOK ON THE INTERNET?’ Papyrus questioned. He looked skeptical - well, as skeptical as a skeleton can look without eyebrows to frown with.

 _What will we cook today?_  The words on the screen ask, the cheerful theme song beeping along happily. The menu screen appears, and Mama smiles at the both of you. You show him how to make selections with the stylus, hoping he won’t snap it in half out of excitement. 

‘OH. MY. GOD,’ Papyrus’s eye sockets are as big as dinner plates. ‘THIS WOMAN ON THE SCREEN IS CHALLENGING ME TO A MATCH OF SPAGHETTI AND MEATBALLS.’ 

You try to tell him that’s not quite how it works.

‘FEAR NOT, HUMAN,’ Papyrus was already talking over you. ‘PAPYRUS, THE WORLD’S NUMBER ONE MASTERCHEF, WILL CONQUER THIS CHALLENGER WITH EASE. 

Obviously, he fails miserably, and looks utterly crestfallen at his score. Mama didn’t look impressed either.  _If only she knew._  You think about the boxes of frozen spaghetti Papyrus insisted on storing in your fridge.

Maybe teaching a skeleton how to play Cooking Mama was a bad idea, you decided. Papyrus, bless his soul, will probably lose the hard-won confidence he has in his cooking skills that Undyne helped to create. But before you could tell him that maybe he could help you with dinner this one time instead of playing -

‘WHAT A WONDERFUL CREATION,’ Papyrus enthused, evidently having recovered. He beamed at your DS like he’d just made a new friend, the glow of the screen somehow reflected in his eyes. And then he is beaming at you. He stands up and strikes a heroic pose.

‘JUST YOU WAIT, HUMAN! THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL ONE DAY BE!!!!!! EVEN. BETTER. THAN. MAMA!!!’ He proclaims grandly, striding off with purpose, DS in hand and brandishing the stylus like a sword.  

Neither you or Sans see him for the rest of the day.

 

At least you manage to clean the kitchen _and_ make dinner in relative peace and quiet. In the house that you have somehow wound up sharing with the skeleton brothers after you all made it to the surface. 

How is your life? You literally have no idea.

Everything happened so quickly once the barrier was broken and the war between monsters and humans ended – Toriel opened a school, just like she said she always wanted to, and has struck up a tentative friendship with Asgore who has been relegated to the school janitor and gardener. Alphys, being Alphys, didn’t want to leave all her lab equipment behind so she spends all her time travelling between her lab and the flat she shares with Undyne – who is still working as a gym teacher at Toriel’s school. 

Monsters have settled into the surface relatively smoothly – once, you know, all the humans stopped fainting at the sight of them – Mettaton even managed get a gig on tv. You never really thought it would be much of an issue – monsters and humans used to live together once, so they can probably figure something out this time around.

But then again, dancing robots weren’t anything new to humans to see on tv, anyway.

As for you, you’re living with two skeletons. Three, you suppose, counting the one inside yourself. (You bite back a groan internally – Sans was definitely to blame for that thought.)

You stayed with the brothers in Snowdin for quite a while when you were underground, and it just felt natural to keep living together. It’s not like you had anybody else, anyway – but the good thing about Papyrus and Sans is that they don’t ask questions like that.

And it’s been pretty good. It’s definitely less…quiet. You’re never lonely anymore, constantly surrounded by a blur of horrible puns, constant enthusiasm for human food and technology, and an abundance of spaghetti.

You’ve gotten a job waitressing at a nearby restaurant, and you’re saving up to go to college if you can. Everything seems to have settled down.

Except, well, it’s clear that Sans is hiding something still.

Of course he doesn’t show it, but you’ve learned to read him during the time you’ve known him. Sometimes the light in his eye sockets are a little dimmer when he grins at you, and his jokes are more like shiny bravado than genuine humour – sometimes, he’ll disappear for hours on end (he always tries to time it so that nobody is home), reappearing more pale and drained than ever.

The biggest giveaway is how quiet Sans really is when he thinks you or Papyrus don’t notice. But you do. And you’ve made it clear you want to know why he’s so tense and – frightened, almost – all the time. One day he’ll give into your badgering, you think. You hope.

But he’s as resolute as ever, patient with your constant pestering and never relenting, never telling you anything, always finding an excuse to slip out of your grasp or something to distract you. You begrudgingly acknowledge that it probably comes from spending his life looking after someone like Papyrus.

Things started changing, though, when the nightmares start coming.

You wouldn’t remember any at first – only waking up with a cry, drenched in cold sweat, clutching at your sheets with a distinct feeling of dread gripping you. Sans (always a light sleeper, he claimed) would be there every time, opening the door and flicking your lamp on almost instantly, the blue of his eye lighting up your dark bedroom as he asks if you need some water. Thankfully, Papyrus, always the opposite of his brother, sleeps like a log.

Confused and disoriented, you would thank him every time and contemplate sleeping tablets as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

And then one night, it happens.

_Someone with hair like yours and clothes like yours but melted dark pits for eyes and a cackling laugh – snarling, sneering, slicing at you with a sharp knife, it’s red, red everywhere, you’re screaming as you bleed out onto your hands and your clothes but you can’t move, you’re powerless and trapped, trapped forever, there’s no way out, no resets, the world is destroyed and they’re going to kill you and kill you and kill you and kill you and –_

This time, you wake up screaming.

Dimly, you realize the lights are on and somebody is shaking your shoulder very insistently, and that they’re speaking to you. 

‘sweetheart please, wake up – look at me, hey, dammit, please, c’mon – ’ You blink a few times and follow the hand on your shoulder to a shoulder to a face that looks completely ashen and –

‘S-sans?’ Your voice is wavering as you gasp for breath, trying to calm down.

‘hey, you.’ He exhales audibly, relieved. The hand on your shoulder shifts to rub your back soothingly. ‘let’s get us something warm to drink, yeah?’

He smiles at you – warm and reassuring and real – as his eye flares bright blue for a second, and you’re sitting on the couch in the living room with a blanket around your shoulders. The tv is on, filling the room with the exact kind of white noise you’d want after waking up from a nightmare.

‘Sans,’ you say with a small smile of your own as he hands you some tea, ‘you’re spoiling me.’

He just shakes his head as he settles on the couch next to you with a half-eaten bag of chips, shifting until you two are shoulder to shoulder – as if he wants to make sure you’re still there; as if he knew that contact and touch was what grounded you and what you needed. You’re still too shaken by the dream to figure out what that might mean.

After a few more times of this – always the same dream, the same person, the same collapsing world and your blood spilled on your hands and clothes and waking up screaming soundlessly – Sans finally relents and tells you about the timelines and the resets.

He tells you that your dreams are caused by the timelines, another sign that they're not going away – that they were pieces of a reality that you were never a part of.

He tells you that this is the longest time monsters have all made it to the surface and stayed there – longest by far, actually – and you can see what goes unsaid is that some days he dares to let himself believe that this is it and there won’t be any more resets.

You ask about what happened in the other timelines – and Sans hesitates. 

You can tell he’s quite uncomfortable about it still but you take it in your stride and press on, arguing that if what’s happening right now is worth anything – your nightmares, the fact that humans and monsters are living on the surface and have been for at least a year – maybe there won’t be any more resets. 

Or maybe you and Sans and everyone working together will find out what has been causing them before it happens again.

Or maybe, maybe –

‘heh, you’re persistent.’ Sans, for the most part, just looks a little bit sad. Like he's tried everything you've said before.

‘to be honest i really was hoping you’d never know.’ His smile is bare and forced, but he seems resigned. ‘guess it was just _wishbone_ thinking, heh.’

You stare at him, waiting.

He sighs, but he didn’t sound angry. ‘you’re always so determined, aren’t ya?’

He lays both hands out flat, palms facing forward, and closes his eyes.

‘well…as long as you’re sure.' 

Before you had the time to reply, the blue glow begins to seep out from underneath his left eye socket. The magic crackles on his fingertips, electric and alive – an extension of his own soul.

You’ve never seen Sans’ magic manifest like this before, so raw and completely uncontained.

Sans takes a deep breath, and an immense blue light washes over you. You feel yourself lifted by an unseen force, and suddenly you can hear him in your head, like he’s all around you at once.

_i have lived this one life a million times over._

Countless images rush by you, and suddenly it’s like you’re in a room with no lights. And then you’re flying, the room is shifting, the sky is falling into itself, the walls are moving, and you are in Sans’ memories.

 _and somehow, it is always you._  

Strangely, you see yourself in his mind, over and over – but not quite you, somehow. Similar but not the same, like imperfect reflections on the water’s surface. Sometimes you have a ribbon in your hair. Other times it’s a bandanna, tied messily around your head. Sometimes you are wearing a stained apron; other times you have a torn notebook in your hand.

Sometimes you are smiling.

Other times, you are also smiling, but…that look in your eyes…

Over your confusion you can hear Sans, his thoughts saturating your consciousness.

 _you still dont have any idea how this feels._  

You blink once, and suddenly you are in a hallway of gold, sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows. You are only a silhouette; a figure made of shadows, and everything else is light. 

_in some timelines, you hated me._

In Sans’ mind, you see yourself standing before him, a knife clasped in one hand, shaking dust off your clothes. Your eyes are empty, lightless. There is a scrap of red fabric clutched in your other hand that might have been once part of a cape.

_first time i saw that, i almost never forgave you._

You watch the ground shake as Sans summoned columns of bones to the surface with a flick of his wrist, and smashed the other you into the wall. Again, again, and again. And then again. 

The light gone from eyes that must have been your own in another life, you leapt and dodged gracefully, all the while clutching that knife in your hand. Staring at Sans. Aiming for his ribcage. 

_but hell, you hated everybody and everything._

Sans staggers as the knife finds its mark, and your hands are covered in red.

Panic washes over you as you watch someone who _must_ be you but also couldn’t possibly be you kill Sans, over and over. You can’t move. Trapped by Sans’ magic, suspended in his memories, you can’t even speak.

 _heh, if it makes you feel any better, it doesn’t hurt as much when you know it’s coming._  

You blink again. You do not understand. 

_trust me, i don’t either. but damn, you did some fucked up shit._

You see Sans watching you from afar as you sang along with Shyren, her quavering voice trembling in the silence. You blink, and suddenly Shyren is wailing – a single, pained shriek – her body dissipating into dust. You watch yourself tuck the knife back behind you, humming her song still.

You watch Sans pull his hood down and walk away.

_you know, you’ve killed me more times i can count, but i’ve probably killed you just as many times. me and undyne both._

The flashes come quicker now, almost like Sans didn’t want to show them to you.

Sans flinging you into rows of deadly bones with a flick of his wrist, and the sound of your neck snapping fill the air. The strange animal skulls Sans conjures with his magic, burning you alive with a blaze of laser beams. You, face down, brown hair fanning out on the ground, red blood seeping into white snow from the blue-green spear embedded in the middle of your chest. You, bloodied and panting, limping before a triumphant Undyne, proud and glorious with determination.

Sans, with both arms open, crushing your fragile human body to pieces with a cage of sharp bones.

You watch this alien version of you die again and again before your – Sans’ – eyes, and you feel…nothing. It’s like a strange dream. 

You blink once again.

_but…other times, you…_

The silence seems to stop as Sans hesitates.

_you…_

_you love me._

You see a brief flash of something, your arms around Sans, face flushed pink, your mouth pressed against his cheek – and then before you blink, it disappears.

You are still suspended by Sans’ magic, drifting in the darkness, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks again. He sounds almost embarrassed.

_well, i mean, you kind of love everyone._

You playing hide and seek with Monster Kid in the swathes of sea grass of Waterfall; watching anime and eating ramen with Alphys in her lab while Mettaton commentates with fascination in the background. Drinking tea with Asgore. Playing fetch with Greater Dog; helping Lesser Dog build the perfect Snowdog. Balancing hotdogs on your head in Hotland with Sans, laughing as they fall and disappear when they hit the floor. Giggling as Undyne suplexes you, Papyrus, Sans _and_ three unsuspecting monsters all at once, just because she can. Toriel sweeping you into a warm hug with her big arms that smell like butterscotch and cinnamon.

_in those timelines, you are the hope that lights the darkness of the entire underground._

You – the same, but different once again – shrieking in laughter as Papyrus swings you in the air with both hands, his torn cape flapping in the winds of Snowdin. You must have been freezing, but you never remembered caring very much.

You blink, and images start flashing by you.

Papyrus hoisting you onto his tall shoulders, skating around the ice; proudly showing you his progress with Junior Jumble and teaching you how to solve horoscopes. Papyrus trying to coax you out of your shell, showing off his racecar bed and attempting to feed you his spaghetti. 

_i never have the heart to tell papyrus what you do to him in other timelines._

Papyrus trailing behind you, crestfallen that you wouldn’t play with his puzzles. Sans, watching from afar, wishing he’d stop trying.

Papyrus, slightly more heartbroken each time you ignore his elaborate plans, shrinking in his tall frame when you stared at him coldly.

Papyrus shaking in his boots as he approaches you, refusing to fight back.

And finally, Papyrus, terrified and alone as you advanced upon him, the wind howling in the distance. Papyrus, steadfastly believing you can love and be loved even in the very last seconds before you look his life.

_yeah. you have no idea._

You feel Sans’ presence in your mind once more, the echoes of grief and anguish ringing in your ears. You are still frozen, caught by the awesome force of Sans’ magic, and you can barely breathe. 

_sometimes you even remember me ever so faintly._

The blue of his magic flares, stronger than ever before.

You watch Sans approach you from behind as you leave the Ruins for the first time (of many, many times), hands clenched into nervous fists inside his pockets. Sometimes you laugh at his jokes, and sometimes you don’t.

Once, you asked ‘do I know you from somewhere?’ and if Sans had a heart he would swear it stopped.

_most of the time, though, you don’t._

Everything starts flashing again, like you’re flipping through a photo book – so many different versions of you, standing where you were, walking where you walked in the underground, the snows of Snowdin, the drizzling rain and rolling seagrass in Waterfall, the stifling heat and magma of Hotland – hundreds, thousands even – and Sans has watched you through them all.

_but i always remember you._

_nobody else ever does._

The blue fades, and light floods back into your vision as you are unceremoniously taken out of Sans’ magic-suspension and dropped onto your bed.

Sans’ voice still lingered in your mind, like the fading echoes of music long forgotten.

_and, despite everything, here we are._

 

You don’t realize you have been shaking until you had stopped. When you put a hand to your face, it feels wet with tears you didn’t realize you had shed.

‘phew,’ Sans sighs loudly as he flopped on the bed next to you. ‘boy, that much show ‘n tell takes a lot outta ya.’

You look over at him, eye sockets closed, hands clasped together on top of his ribcage, and finally understand that Sans never really allowed himself to be happy. 

What would the point of being happy if it is always inevitably snatched from your hands, every single time? What would the point of trying be if nobody ever remembers, and it’s like you never did anything at all?

Sans, on the other hand, seems completely oblivious to you. ‘can say i’m _bone tired,_ eh?’ he says with a smirk, eyes still closed.

Before you can stop yourself you are clambering over to him, elbows over knees over palms, scrambling hands grabbing at fistfuls of his white shirt, his hoodie, and curling yourself against his body. You want to reassure him that there won’t be anymore resets (even though it’s an empty promise at best), that you understand – that you know what it feels like to lose everything again and again, that you’re sorry he’s ever been hurt even once – but all you can do is shove your face into his collarbone and hold him as tight as you can manage.

‘huh?’

Startled, Sans’ arms come around you as he tries to sit up, the empty spaces between his bones pressing into you underneath his hoodie. ‘you okay there, sweetheart?’ 

Not trusting yourself to speak, you nose his exposed collarbone – just slightly above where his hoodie starts – trying to communicate that _you’re_ okay, but you don’t know how to make Sans – or anything about this – okay; and strangely, you feel him shiver.

‘hey, shh,’ Sans is tentatively running his fingers up and down your back, brushing gently through your hair, as his other arm is still curled around you.

‘we just gotta take each day as it comes, i guess. and you’re right, my timeline’s never lasted this long before. maybe…this is the one.’ 

No longer needing to put up a front, Sans’ voice is soft and uncertain, but there was a small amount of hope in there, too.

As you slowly settle in Sans’ lap, leaning against him, Sans just kind of – keeps holding you, keeps running fingers through your hair. You think about everything Sans does for you, brave Sans, dry, sardonic, clever Sans, _scared as fuck_ but still not quite giving up, not quite letting go yet – the reluctant warrior, defender of not only his precious little brother but the only world he has ever lived in, the only home he’s ever known, trying to tear apart time and space itself just to make things right, no matter what it takes – and a rush of fierce affection surges through you.

‘You know I’ll do anything for you, right?’

The words come out before you fully realize what you’ve said, and Sans is staring at you in – was it disbelief?

Your heart is pounding – you’re so close to Sans, curled up in his lap, that he can probably feel it too – and you decide just to go with it. 

‘In this timeline. If what you say is right, we don’t know how many days we have left before everything is erased – and while we’re still here and I can say this, I want to – because you deserve it, Sans – you’ve been that person for so many others and you deserve someone to be that person for you.’

Although it was rushed and you feel breathless after saying all of that, you realize that you mean every word.

You lean your forehead against his and nuzzle his cheek affectionately – like you’ve done this all your life – and Sans lets out a shuddering sigh, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them. He nods, like he doesn’t trust himself to speak – and tightens his grip around you. 

You stay like that, wrapped up in each other, until you fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> a few things:  
> (1) plz tell me what you think! it is a tad rushed and i have no beta but i just have SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS GAME AND THESE CHARACTERS THAT I JUST HAD TO WRITE IT UGH  
> (2) add me on tumblr @ schpocks if u wanna scream about undertale w/ me or u have fic requests  
> 


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